


He Ate My Heart

by liketolaugh



Series: To My Dear and Loving Husband [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Collars, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Has a Vagina, Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Nonbinary Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Other, Possessive Markus, Possessive Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: Markus might, perhaps, maybe, be a touch possessive over the things and people he loves. It's not a bad thing - he's well aware of it. He's just... afraid of losing it all again.Connor decides to solve this by putting a collar around his own throat. It does help, as it happens.
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: To My Dear and Loving Husband [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814974
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	He Ate My Heart

Markus didn’t like visiting the police station.

It was, he felt, quite understandable; it made him restless and unhappy and anxious, surrounded by cops and watched unerringly from the time he entered to the time he left. But sometimes it was necessary – discussing the safety of the Jericho district, or speaking about the treatment of both android suspects and victims, or negotiating some laws before he took them further up.

Like many things, Connor made it easier; they took Markus’ place whenever possible, and when Markus needed to visit in person, they didn’t leave Markus’ side for even a moment.

They stayed right by Markus as he sat in Captain Fowler’s office, one hand on Markus’ shoulder instead of staying by the door like he usually preferred. It made them a little more Markus’ partner and a little less his bodyguard in that moment, and it gave Markus a little more space to breathe.

To his credit, Fowler always took Markus seriously, and he never objected to Connor’s presence. Markus didn’t know much about the man personally, but he knew he was friends with Hank, and he knew that Connor liked him; from what Markus could tell, Fowler liked Connor too, the sort of warmth that you might hold for a close friend’s particularly likeable sibling.

“Affirmative action shouldn’t be hard to put in place for androids around here,” Fowler concluded, frowning a little at something on his computer screen. “We’ve been understaffed for the last couple years anyway. Budget’ll have to be redone, but we’ve got the room for it.” He looked away to meet Markus’ eyes. “Agreeable?”

Markus managed a small smile and a nod of his own. “Thank you for your cooperation, Captain. With a police precinct setting an example, hopefully other workplaces will start to fall in line as well.”

It would take time, but the passing of the employment bill was a landmark moment for androids; it included not only the ability to work, but also their official right to possess property in general. Within weeks to months, androids should be able to start purchasing apartments and homes outside of the limited space set aside for androids.

In other words, everything was starting to come together.

Fowler nodded at him, and then he looked up at Connor, expression softening minutely.

“I know you’ve found a place for yourself in Jericho,” he said, “but you should know that we’d welcome you back if you wanted. You made quite an impression while you were here.”

Involuntarily and unnoticed, Markus bristled at the implication that Connor would want to leave Jericho, leave _him,_ for other work. For the work that he had been designed and optimized for. It sent an electric sort of irritation sizzling through him, and he steamed quietly.

Connor’s hand squeezed Markus’ shoulder gently, but when he looked up, Connor was smiling, unmistakably pleased, at Fowler.

“Thank you,” Connor said with unwarranted warmth. “But I’m needed at Jericho. I’m afraid transferring is out of the question.”

Fowler didn’t look surprised, and just nodded. “Well, keep it in mind. Offer’s open.”

As if Connor hadn’t just, politely but firmly, _refused._

“Thank you, Captain Fowler,” Markus interrupted, clipped and terse. “If that’s all…”

Fowler raised an eyebrow at his tone, but waved them off. Markus rose to his feet, jaw clenching as Connor’s hand dropped from his shoulder, and deliberately caught Connor’s elbow on his way out, keeping them close to Markus. Connor, while puzzled, came along easily enough, which eased up something in Markus’ chest.

Still, Markus steamed with resentment. Awfully, irrationally, he hated Fowler for trying to take Connor away; Connor was _his,_ was Markus’-

Connor was their own person, Markus amended grudgingly, but he had _chosen Markus._ And Captain Fowler didn’t have any right to take him away. To bait him into going elsewhere, to- to try and _make him leave…_

Markus’ system kept circling and lingering over it, leaving him distracted and unhappy for the rest of the day. He knew Connor noticed; they hovered over him more than normal, offering brushing, soft touches as if to remind Markus that he was nearby, and Markus reciprocated in kind: kisses and grasps and possessive, firm touches in plain sight of anyone nearby.

Connor was _his._ Connor was Markus’ and Markus couldn’t lose him.

There was no one else who accepted Markus so _completely._

The result of this was that the workday seemed interminable; Markus struggled through stacks of paperwork and a few stray phone calls and meetings, forcing himself back to the matter at hand again and again, and even when they were finally in the taxi home, he found he was struggling to relax. He stroked up and down Connor’s arm, firm and grounding, reminding himself that Connor was _there_ , and ignored their concerned looks until they actually spoke. The knot in his chest just wouldn’t _loosen,_ and his knees sparked and twinged unpleasantly.

“Markus,” Connor said, soft and sweetly worried and still leaning so subtly into Markus’ touch that it was possible they themself didn’t notice, “what’s wrong? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

Markus clenched his jaw involuntarily, keeping his attention on the window and the traffic outside. (The use of self-driving taxis had been a brief debate between him and Connor, but really, it was difficult to sabotage a self-driving taxi in a way an android couldn’t override.)

“You don’t want to go back to the DPD, do you?” he asked at last, stiff and anxious. His hand stilled on Connor’s arm, but he couldn’t bring himself to move it away.

Connor paused, and Markus could almost hear his puzzled frown. “No. I’ve made my commitment to protecting you, so as I said, transferring is out of the question. Besides which, police work is rather too close to my original programming. I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with it.”

Markus took that and tried to force it into his heart, to make the racing thing calm down. It didn’t work, and his grip on Connor’s arm only tightened. After a minute, Connor’s free hand lifted to cover Markus’ gently.

“Is that what was bothering you?” Connor asked quietly. “I’m not going anywhere, Markus. I promise.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Markus blurted out, tight with a stressed sort of fear. He finally turned around to look at Connor, whose brow was furrowed cutely, brown eyes focused unwaveringly on Markus. “You mean the world to me. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Connor softened, most of the remaining hard lines of his professionalism melting away without hesitation. “I know, Markus. You’ve got me. I’m right here.”

Markus searched his face for honesty, and some of the panicked edge finally faded away from his emotions. Without hesitation, he leaned over and pressed his lips to Connor’s, and Connor paused for a split second before opening up for him, easy and pliant. Markus tasted his mouth, the sweet little cleaning fluid that dampened his tongue, and lingered demandingly.

With excellent timing, the taxi reached their apartment building, and Connor pulled away to climb out and glance around for the split second Markus let him before leading him impatiently home.

He wasn’t upset anymore, Markus decided defiantly, an agitated and insistent warmth gathering under his skin. He just wanted to remind Connor exactly how much they belonged to him.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Markus pushed Connor against it, kissing them messily and greedily, opening his mouth up and licking into it eagerly. His hands moved to the buttons of Connor’s clean white shirt, undoing them with the fumbling, quick motions of growing practice, and Connor made a soft, rewarding sound, hands going to Markus’ hips as if to steady him.

It was good; it was perfect, Connor’s broad body melting instantly against the door and into Markus as he opened up like a blooming flower. Markus broke the kiss, panting and bruised, and found Connor looking at him, cheeks already starting to flush blue and clear confusion clouding his eyes.

“Markus, weren’t you…?” Connor trailed off, puzzled and concerned – probably thrown off by the suddenness of Markus’ advances, Markus guessed.

Markus didn’t want to talk about it. He jammed his knee between Connor’s thighs, pushing his half-hard cock against Connor’s hip, rocking hips searching for friction, and leaned down to suck a hickey into their throat, and the words dissolved into a shuddering sigh, Connor arching subtly into him.

And that was good, that was perfect. Markus wanted to mark Connor now, leave his neck and collar covered in shiny white bruises, wanted to fill him and claim him and make him fall apart under Markus’ hands. He wanted Connor to be his, and he wanted them both to know it. His skin burned with it, hard and fast, an aching need to rub off against Connor until he spilled all over his partner and proved them his.

“W-what are, I don’t- Markus?” Connor stuttered out, eyes wide and face flushed and clearly caught between attraction and disorientation.

Markus’ cock throbbed, and he pushed his hand down the front of Connor’s pants to reach the growing moisture there, rubbing his fingers into Connor’s hot cleft, and Connor released a beautiful, shaky gasp.

“I’m going to fuck you against a wall,” Markus decided, rock-hard in his pants and still pinning Connor against the door, aching arousal in the pit of his stomach.

“O-okay?” Connor managed, and when Markus led him away from the door and further into the apartment, he went without even a hint of resistance.

They ended up in the living room, and Markus pulled off his shoes, his socks, his shirt and then his pants and boxers. It took Connor a moment to catch up, and he was still fumbling with his clothing when Markus came to finish stripping him, impatient and intent, exposing his skin by inches. Connor helped only a little, kicking away his pants and underwear, breath quickening. His boxers were sticky.

Without hesitation, Markus hiked one of Connor’s legs up high enough to hurt a human, and ground the shaft of his stiff cock against Connor’s wet slit, their thighs pushing together with the motion.

It was good, it was perfect; Markus rocked, finding his pleasure against the cleft of Connor’s slit, and shuddered from head to toe, hazy and wanting, every inch of skin contact almost and not quite enough.

“Tell me you want it, baby,” Markus rasped, one hand pushing up Connor’s leg by the hollow of their knee, the other pushing against Connor’s free arm to pin him to the wall. Their bodies pressed together in a long, hot line, and Markus could feel Connor’s panting breath against him.

“Oh, God, Markus,” Connor croaked, and they were arching between Markus and the wall, eyes hazing over noticeably as he let go of his confusion under the onslaught of sensations – Markus knew how his partner ticked. “I want you so bad.”

Markus groaned, and let go of Connor’s leg to reach down just long enough to guide his cock into Connor’s slit, pushing in until Connor enveloped most of his cock in a tight, wet tunnel. Connor gasped out half a restrained moan, wobbling only the slightest bit even without Markus’ support, and then another, louder one as Markus put his hand back and _pushed_ Connor against the wall, rocking his hips into Connor’s eagerly, chest to chest. Markus started kissing Connor’s neck again, and Connor twisted into him.

“You’re mine,” Markus reminded Connor fiercely, desperately, feeling Connor’s free arm wrap around and cling to his back, palm spread out hot and steadying. He panted against Connor’s throat, hips bucking forcefully, rutting into him. “The police can’t have you, no one can take you, you’re _mine-”_

“Markus,” Connor gasped out, soaking wet and clingy and visibly entranced, body rubbing against Markus’ with each frantic thrust, in his arms and surrounded. Face flushed and aroused, brown eyes hazy and fixed. Bracketed in and content, melting against the wall and pliant under Markus’ hands.

Markus loved the way Connor said his name, the way he made it sound like it had _gravity,_ like it was the center of Connor’s universe – like _Markus_ was. His cock throbbed, and he ground greedily into Connor and demanded, “Say it again.”

“Markus,” Connor moaned, open and wanton, head lolling a little and overheating under Markus’ hands, leg squeezing down to buck weakly. “Markus, Markus, _Markus!”_

Markus tightened his grip, too harsh, and sped up, hips smacking wetly into Connor’s in a rapid bounce. God, that felt so good, Connor felt so good- “Again.”

Connor’s hand pressed harder too, clinging to Markus’ back. His mouth hung open to pant, hips rolling into Markus’, hot and sturdy.

“Markus,” they chanted, bouncing on Markus’ aching cock, clenching wetly and practically _stroking_ him, “Markus, M-Markus, oh fuck Markus!”

Markus grazed his teeth over Connor’s throat, hot breath spilling out over his partner as he rocked wildly inside. Their hips slapped and ground together audibly, and Connor’s slick rubbed onto the base of Markus’ cock, dripping wet over his balls. He started to groan.

“Fuck, fuck yes, fuck again,” Markus panted out, dizzy and heated. He felt Connor’s face bury in his neck and arched, going faster, harder, leaning them both against the wall for leverage, wanting more.

“M-M-Markus,” Connor whimpered, rasping and breathless and wanton, and Markus knew that pleading note and dropped his hand again to rub circles over Connor’s clit, soaked and stiff, stroking him.

Connor shuddered, jerked, and came around Markus, squeezing and jerking and still rubbing desperately over him. Markus gasped at the hot, rapid shivering, felt his balls tighten, and came inside him, still grinding inside their slit with his hips twitching wildly, cock throbbing. Connor held them both up as Markus’ grip faltered and they pulsed together, hips jolting and twitching.

It wasn’t until they’d both finished coming that Connor finally let them down, easing his grip until they were both seated, still leaning together and tied.

Markus only gave himself a minute to calm down, catching his breath and cooling on top of Connor, before he leaned over to kiss Connor’s cheek, then his jaw, then his lips and his other cheek and-

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured frantically, Connor’s solid weight under him a reassurance as Markus held onto them, softening inside their slit. “I can’t, I just can’t, Connor.”

“Shh,” Connor soothed, hands coming up to pull Markus a little closer, chin tucking into the crook of Markus’ neck. “You’ve got me. You’ve got me.”

* * *

There were a couple reasons why Markus and North had broken up, but the biggest one was this: Markus was possessive.

He couldn’t help it; it was a natural reaction to having lost everything so abruptly the moment he became deviant, to having lost his home and half his parts and his sense of safety- he toned it down for North the best he could, but she still sensed it in him, and it never failed to ignite a defensive sort of panicked anger in her.

It wasn’t just the attentiveness and the faint jealousy that got to her, though; it wasn’t even mostly that. It was the affection, she’d told him, the sheer suffocating amount of it he lavished her with every moment they weren’t fighting. No matter how much he tried to pull back, how hard he tried to find a happy medium between choking himself and choking her, it was too much. _Markus_ was too much.

He’d heard the same thing from every one of the few failed relationships that he’d attempted in between North and Connor. The same passion that drove him to lead and run the android rights movement was just as prominent at home, in everything he did; it drove his painting and his music, his love for his partner and for his friends and every new activity he delved eagerly into.

Markus, in his private life, was no longer the burning star of the revolution; he was simply ‘too much’.

That had surged to the forefront in the days since Captain Fowler made his offer to Connor; even after Markus’ initial reaction, he still found himself a little more affectionate than usual, trying to make sure Connor knew he cared. Connor accepted it easily, the same as he always did, but even as he kept at it, Markus couldn’t help but wonder anxiously if this would be where it became ‘too much’ for Connor, too.

It was little gifts and kisses and hands on his arm; it was promises and pet names and whispers of love. It was cuddling and sleeping together and spreading him out over the bedsheets. It was a lot.

And Connor had just as much reason to fear being owned as any of them.

Markus was distracted from his worrying when Connor emerged from the bedroom, a few minutes after Markus had, while he was still downing a pouch of thirium. Markus nearly spat the liquid back up, staring at Connor, who pretended not to notice.

Because Connor was wearing something around his neck – Markus wanted to call it a necklace, out of propriety, but it bore a downright unmistakable resemblance to the collars Connor would sometimes wear for him during play. It was simple, a little strap of navy silk that clung to his pale throat, with a little silver latch.

Connor cocked an eyebrow at him, tilting their head toward the door in silent question. Markus didn’t want to make Connor uncomfortable if they were just experimenting with fashion, but he couldn’t stop staring.

He followed Connor out the door numbly, uncharacteristically quiet. (Tellingly, Connor didn’t comment, but he did have a trace of a smile as he ushered Markus into the taxi.)

Throughout the day, Markus kept shooting Connor glances, distracted by the (collar, it had to be a collar) around his neck. Connor maintained their usual professionalism during work hours, hovering by the door or in his chair near Markus’ desk, but occasionally they glanced up and let the corner of their mouth turn up, and Markus knew they were watching.

Finally, by the time they broke for the mid-day break androids tended to take in place of lunch, Markus couldn’t take it anymore. Connor had reached up to fiddle absently with the cloth band, and twisted it just enough that Markus could make out a flash of his name printed on the inside, and he rocked forward as if magnetized. His cock twitched and thickened slightly inside his pants, drawn.

“Connor,” he rasped at last, “why are you wearing a collar?”

Connor’s cheeks colored slightly, and they cleared their throat.

“It’s a choker, technically,” he said offhandedly, without meeting Markus’ eyes. “So it’s socially acceptable attire outside of… of the bedroom.” He hesitated, glanced up uncertainly, and added, quieter, “I… thought you might enjoy the visual reassurance.”

 _That I’m yours,_ Markus heard, unspoken.

Connor wanted to prove to everyone that he was Markus’. Connor, who rarely initiated large displays of affection at all, let alone such blatantly public ones, who was squirming a little nervously, and preferred to tread on familiar ground-

Markus stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, and then reached out and pulled Connor by the collar close enough to kiss, hard and searing. Connor rocked forward without resistance, though visibly surprised, and accepted eagerly, hot mouth opening to accept Markus’ tongue.

After a moment, Markus let go, beaming helplessly at Connor, heart racing with mixed affection and arousal and desperate desire, and breathed, “Stay here.”

And he got up to lock the office door.

When he turned around, Connor was already perking up, anticipation brightening their expression, and Markus grinned at him with unbroken adoration. Then he gripped the back of his blue button-up, urged him up, and then bent him over the desk, clean and organized at least half for this purpose. Connor went without hesitation, breath already deepening at the implied promise, shooting Markus a heated look over his shoulder. Such a beautiful fucking sight.

Markus bent over behind him, bracketing him securely, and reached up to tug gently at their collar. Connor exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering shut, melting enough that Markus knew instantly that he enjoyed it just as much as Markus did, and Markus felt warm and pleased and _satisfied_ even with his cock still hardening against Connor’s backside, and happy enough to cry to boot.

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart,” he breathed, pressing a hard kiss to the back of Connor’s neck, rocking gently against them. “I love you so much, Connor, honey, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. Beautiful and considerate and perfect and mine.”

He nosed against Connor’s neck, lips brushing the silken collar, then inhaled shakily, feeling Connor warm and steady under him, bent over and waiting patiently for him, their body heaving gently with each breath.

“I’m going to buy you so many of these,” Markus promised, blindly pushing Connor’s pants and boxers to his knees. “Hide your mouth in your elbow for me, sweetheart, we need to muffle your sweet voice- yes, just like that, treasure.” Recklessly, he rubbed his fingers against Connor’s slit and felt him arch slightly, just starting to moisten. “I need to thank you for this, baby, will you let me thank you properly?”

Connor shuddered subtly and spread his legs, shooting another glance over his arm with a fond, crooked smile. “We’ve got forty-five minutes,” he reminded Markus, but they didn’t sound concerned. Markus smirked at him, warm and eager.

“More than enough,” he promised, feeling Connor relax under him as Markus’ fingers rubbed expertly around his clit, playing and teasing. “I’d love so much for you to wear my collar everywhere, baby. You can wear it at work and around Jericho and every time you visit that station so you never forget who you come home to.”

“I w-would never, Markus,” Connor promised him, stuttered and muffled, his whole body flexing under Markus as they rapidly grew slick under Markus’ fingers, breath going shaky. “Wherever you want, I’ll take it with me. Anywhere.”

Markus groaned softly, turning his hand to push two fingers into Connor’s slit and feel it clench around them, silk-soft and slippery. “I’ll give you one for galas and balls,” he rasped, fucking Connor on his fingers and feeling his breath hitch, still bent over the desk at a harsh angle. “I could lead you around by it where everyone would see, a little bow like you were my own little gift.”

“Yes,” Connor managed, hips tipping up into Markus’ hand, needy and wanting and open for Markus, gasping softly into the crook of their elbow. “Yes, please, I’d love that.”

Markus shut his eyes for a brief moment, feeling his eyes prick and his cock throb, and rubbed the walls of Connor’s slit firmly. “God, you’re so perfect for me,” he breathed, overwhelmed. “I can’t believe you chose me, you make me so happy, baby, honeybee, so damn happy I can’t even begin to tell you.”

Connor muffled a moan into his arm, clenching around his fingers. “I love you too,” he gasped out, hitching and soft, canting their hips up. “Ah, Markus, please.”

Markus freed his hand from between Connor’s legs, and Connor stifled a whine. Markus replied by tugging lightly on his new collar again, entranced by the feeling of the silk, then started to rub over their stiff, wet clit and pushed his cock into Connor, slow and careful.

Connor hid a soft, high whine, pushing onto him like there was nothing he wanted more than Markus, grinding his clit into Markus’ fingers and opening up for his cock, wet and ready.

Markus groaned in pleasure as Connor covered him, tight and warm and constructed perfectly to squeeze around Markus just right. He pressed a kiss to Connor’s shoulder and hissed, “I love you _so much,_ honeybee, so much, people would be so jealous if they knew you like I do, because you’re so _fucking_ perfect and you feel so good around my thick cock and so good squirming in my arms where you belong.”

“Just for you, Markus,” Connor mumbled, hips rocking back into Markus’, fists clenching and pressing tightly against the wood of the desk as he gasped. “Only for you.”

Markus grazed his teeth against Connor’s neck, panting as his hips snapped into Connor’s, blown away by how wonderful Connor always felt around his cock, stroking and milking him with every thrust, a wet little cave just for Markus.

“And if anyone walked in right now?” he teased breathlessly, keeping his voice low nonetheless, for Connor’s ears alone. “They’d see you bent over and moaning for me, they’d see how _pretty_ you are, how much you open up for me and how much you love my cock.” He stifled a shuddering groan of his own, speeding up a little. “They’d see how much you belong to me, would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Connor gasped out, bucking back in short, shallow jerks. “I’d love that, Markus, please. I’m yours, I’m yours…”

Markus rubbed harder, panting hotly against Connor’s neck. “My pretty sweetheart, my treasured princess, my sweet sentinel and knight and lovely, perfect darling-”

Connor whined into his elbow, strained and needy, and then, in a few grinding, stuttered jerks of his hips, came around Markus’ cock, gasping softly. Markus held on, groaning quietly, until Connor finished, panting.

It was only when Connor started to settle that Markus let himself come, hips twitching and thrusting into Connor and spilling inside them, claiming him in one of the basest ways possible.

Then, finally, Markus relaxed a little, panting, bracing himself over Connor’s back while both of them calmed. After a minute, he rummaged for a handkerchief and pressed it into Connor’s hand, and Connor pushed it into his boxers, where it would catch any dampness that attempted to escape later, with the unconcerned ease of repeated practice.

“I love you,” Markus said at last, slightly helpless, nuzzling against Connor’s shoulder, the rumpled cloth and the smooth, firm chassis and synthskin, warm from the activity and Connor’s own energy.

Connor barked out a short, soft laugh, and turned their head to look at Markus, brown eyes warm and smile a touch silly, cheeks still glowing faint blue.

“I know,” he said, quiet and sincere. “And you have no idea how much that means to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just enjoying the hell out of this series, sorry y'all. Lot lighter than my usual fare. :)
> 
> I'm not sure this one's up to standard, but I'm not not happy with it, either.


End file.
